


The Little Illyrian

by serenaluna



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Adopted Children, Angst, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Growing Up, Original Character(s), Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-07 12:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenaluna/pseuds/serenaluna
Summary: Elowen knew something was wrong with her.It was the day her parents pushed her out into the cold snow that she decided she never wanted a Mama or a Papa again---instead, she was gifted with the best family she could ask for, all thanks to her three princes.





	1. Introduction

Elowen didn't understand why her mother hadn't tucked her into bed that night. 

Why she hadn't yet received a lullaby or a goodnight kiss. 

She also didn't understand why her father hadn't come to see her---that was when she'd pretend to be asleep under the covers, so he wouldn't know that she was up past her bedtime. 

For some reason, the blanket she used was colder that night. Elowen frowned...she didn't like the cold. 

Muted voices, ones that sounded like warbling and growling animals resonated through the curtain that acted as her door. 

They sounded angry and hateful. Like someone had done something wrong. 

She just couldn't think of who.

Elowen crawled out of bed and pushed past the blue curtain that hung above her. She walked into the kitchen, searching the array of adults in the room for a sign of her mother or father. 

Her parents stared back at her with eyes that she had only ever received when she did something really,  _ really  _ bad. 

Was it her that was in trouble? What did she do? 

“It's time for a lullaby now, right Mama?” Elowen asked her mother, wishing that pretty smile back onto her face. When her mother frowned, she did not look as beautiful. 

“ _ No _ .” Her mother’s proud face held a steely gaze, her right hand balling into a fist. “I'm afraid defects don't get to have lullabies.” 

“What do you mean?” Elowen stepped closer to her mother in confusion, tugging on her loose hand and wrist. “What's a defect?” 

“ _ You  _ are the defect, Elowen. You've messed up  _ everything _ .” Her mother snarled, grabbing Elowen's wrist and tugging her along to the front door, pushing her out into the cold snow. 

“Mama, wait! I don’t have a coat!” She tried to run back inside to grab the favorite gray sweater of hers, pushing against her mother’s legs and stomach. Soon, her father approached her and pushed her back outside. Elowen’s pajamas were too thin---she was already shivering. 

“You’re going to pay the consequences for your misfortune, Elowen,” He ordered, looking at her with a stony demeanor. Usually, his eyes were much kinder, but today...today he was  _ angry. _ “You are to go with Lord Andromedon and let him give you whatever he feels that you deserve.” 

“B-But…” She sniffled, trying to get back inside her house. Tears ran down her puffy, red cheeks. Elowen was so frustrated, she asked, “What did I do? I don't understand…” 

“You're a waste of me and your mother's efforts-- just a defective piece of shit. Now  _ go _ .” 

Elowen began to sob as her father grew angrier and angrier, his cold tone eventually turning into scary bellowing. She clung to anything that she could, her father, the snow, the flowers in front of the house. 

“Pl-Please, Papa! Let me stay...I'll be a good girl! I promise!” She begged, but soon Lord Andromedon had come out of the house. The tall, dark man picked her up by the collar of her nightgown and began dragging her away from the front door.

“ _ Let me go! Let me go! _ ” She screamed, kicking and thrashing as hard as she could. Her chest puffed up in anger and fear. Elowen wanted nothing more than to be back with her mother and father, safely tucked into her warm bed. The further she got away, the more desperate she was for their safety and protection. “Mama! Papa!  _ Help me! _ ” 

Elowen continued to kick and scream, when eventually she had landed a direct hit to the groin.  Lord Andromedon groaned in pain, doubling over and allowing her to escape. 

She crawled through the snow with a ferocity she had never shown before, still screaming for her mother and father. It was when she landed on her back that she realized she had wings...although they didn’t work like the other kids’ did, Elowen had hope that they would let her escape. 

Running over to a cliff off of the mountain pass her house was near, she spread out her wings, flapping them as hard as she could to try and escape. 

Lord Andromedon was right on her tail now---Elowen jumped for it, using all of the muscles in her body to will herself to take flight. 

“Not so fast, you little brat!” Her captor growled, grabbing her nightgown once more and forcibly pulling her back into the snow. She was thrown on her stomach, and the chill of winter hit her bare back, as he had ripped the top part of her nightgown with the strength of his pull. 

“ _ No! _ ” Elowen shrieked, but before she could try her luck again, Lord Andromedon had pulled out an Illyrian blade. 

With a scream of terror, the scary man carved two marks into her cold back. Elowen shook with her uncontrollable sobbing. She was immovable now...to petrified to do anything but cry. 

She didn’t understand what had exactly occured. All she knew was that she was  _ angry.  _ She was angry and scared and sorely missed her warm sweater. 

She also knew that she never wanted a Mama or a Papa or even a Lord Andromedon  _ ever  _ again. 

They would only betray her and hurt her. 

“I should throw you into the ring with one of the soldiers for that little attempt, girl. If you think you’re so  _ fucking  _ smart.” 

Elowen threw her arms up in the air to shield herself from Lord Andromedon’s next blow---

But that was when they appeared. 

Three handsome princes, coming to Elowen’s rescue. 

She gasped in awe, the pure might coming from these men making her thank her lucky stars that her dreams were finally coming true---quite literally. She her favorite dream was one where a handsome prince would whisk her away to a world full of sweets and fluffy pillows. 

Elowen didn’t know if these princes were from that kind of world, but she didn’t care. She was the damsel in distress (whatever that meant), and here were her rescuers. 

Not only did she have a prince...she had  _ princes _ . That made her grin. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ do you think you’re doing to her?” The one in the middle, with the shoulder-length hair that Elowen so desperately wanted to braid, asked. His face was scary looking, but she knew  _ she _ didn’t have to be scared. 

Lord Andromedon did. 

“Ah, the Illyrian bastard and the half-blood High Lord…” Lord Andromedon smirked, rolling his eyes with a scoff. “Perfect.” 

“Apparently you didn’t get the memo, Lord Andromedon. Women, especially young girls, will  _ never  _ be mistreated or harmed under my watch, Illyrian heritage bullshit or otherwise.” The very handsome one on the left spoke. His voice sounded smooth and cold, in a much more terrifying way than the voice of the man in the middle. 

“This--- _ thing  _ is a defect. Her right wing is a monstrosity, one which no true Illyrian would ever possess. She must be taken care of,” Lord Andromedon spoke. “Not even her parents want her.” 

“You’re right,” The most handsome prince was the one to speak again. “She must be taken care of. Given the love that her parents---  _ and her Lord _ \---will not.” 

“Let me kill him, Rhys.” The pretty haired one spat. 

“No,” The handsome  _ Rhys  _ turned to the prince on the right. “Azriel, I want you to take this monster to the prison. Lock him up and throw away the key.” 

He nodded,  _ Azriel _ restraining Lord Andromedon before he even had the chance to fight back. The man still tried, but Azriel managed quite well. 

Elowen finally spoke, very enthusiastically, “If you kick him in the crotch, it’ll be easier!” 

Her three princes chuckled, and Rhys winked at her. 

“That’s right,” He crooned. “You’re a smart girl.” 

Azriel suddenly disappeared, and Elowen was glad the scary man was gone. Now her princes were much more pleasant looking, as they approached her and helped her onto her feet. 

“What’s your name?” Her prince, who she still did not know the name of, asked. 

“Elowen.” She smiled, unable to be too sad when she looked her dream prince right in the eyes. His were brown---a very nice, warm brown. 

Elowen was still upset about her parents. Upset that her back hurt so much, because of what Lord Andromedon had done. But she decided to ignore the tears that wanted to spill, because for now, she would be a big girl and keep them to herself. 

Then she asked, “What’s yours?”  

“Cassian.” He reached out to shake her hand, tiny in comparison to his. “And this is my brother, Rhysand.” 

Elowen looked up at...Rhysand? 

“Is Rhys your nickname?” Handsome  _ Rhysand  _ nodded. 

“It’s what only the best people call me. Including you, if you’re so inclined.” 

“I wish I had a nickname.” She frowned, but remembered that it was impolite not to shake Rhys’s hand as well, so she did. “And...and I don’t know what to do. I think I need some help.”

“Don’t worry,” Cassian looked over at Rhys, and with a secretive shared glance they both nodded. “If you’d like, you can come home with us for the meantime. Until we can get you settled in a nice house with new people who will take care of you.” 

Rhys put a hand on her shoulder. “Have you ever been to Velaris?” 

Elowen shook her head, “You live in the city?” 

“We all do---me, Cassian, and Azriel. Along with some others too, Feyre and Mor.” 

“Oh…” Elowen thought for a moment, deciding on her opinion about the idea. The city would be fun---she had always wanted to visit. “They sound nice.”

“They’re  _ super  _ nice.” Cassian reassured. 

“Okay,” She nodded, standing up a little taller. “Is it warm at your house, Rhys?” 

He smiled, “Always.” 

“Good. I hate the cold.” She smiled back, taking Cassian’s hand when he offered it to her. She spoke again, as one last thought came to mind, “Are there sweets and fluffy pillows in Velaris?” 

“More than you can even imagine.” Cassian grinned, scooping her up into his arms and flapping his wings, Elowen clutching him tighter as he soared high up into the air. 

She had never been able to get in the air like this---it was incredible. Maybe something  _ was  _ wrong with her… her princes, Cassian and Rhys could do it. Why couldn’t she? 

Elowen remained silent with her thoughts the whole trip to Velaris, trying to process what had happened, why it had happened. 

Maybe she could ask Rhys and Cassian later? But what if they reacted the same as her parents? What if they called her a  _ defect _ ? She didn’t know what it meant, but it was something bad...Elowen was sure of it. 

“We’re here.” Cassian gently murmured, letting her see the glowing fae lights of the city. She gazed down at the stone buildings in awe, the warmer air and the smell of jasmine soothing her senses. 

Elowen hoped that the sweets would present themselves in the morning. 


	2. New Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um i just finished acofas and holy mother-effing shitballs IT WAS SO GOOOOOD   
> i would pay so much money just to see my baby cassian happy, y'all have no I D E A   
> Sarah J. Maas will DELIVER with this next book, I literally can't wait, it's a struggle. 
> 
> Have you guys read the Throne of Glass series? I'm gonna read that while I wait for the next book in the acotar series, so let me know your opinions on it in the comments! No spoilers, por favor. 
> 
> also wow my school librarian is a fan of this series? she has like merch and everything---shoutout to you Mrs. Turley, the true fan. I stan a legend.

_ “Do you think there’s a family back at another camp?”  _ Elowen heard the deep voice of Cassian say. She pretended to ignore them---to absentmindedly eat some of the cut up fruit the nice little faeries, Nuala and Cerridwen, made for her. Just until the adults were done talking. 

_ “You want to send her back there? After what they did to her?”  _ A female voice this time, which Elowen learned was Mor. She ogled over Mor’s beautiful golden hair the moment they met...she wished she had hair just like that. It seemed that Valerians all had nice hair. 

Elowen was incredibly jealous. 

“ _ Rumors are already spreading. No Illyrian is going to want to take her in. If anything, we should try to find a Valerian family. _ ” Azriel softly spoke, but Elowen was still able to hear it. 

_ “I think we need to talk to her first. Find out what exactly happened, why it happened, and  _ then _ do something. Let’s not advertise an abandoned child right away.”  _ Another female voice, who was Feyre, said. She was Rhysand’s mate, and the warmest, loveliest person Elowen had ever met. 

Their talking bugged her, even as she sat in the other room. It made her think about her parents, her former home. She could feel tears begin to well up in her eyes, despite her inner pledge to be a big girl. Elowen’s nose annoyingly stuffed up, making her sniffle. 

Nuala approached the crying girl with a gentle smile, her twin doing the exact same. 

Wordlessly, before they could even try and talk to her, Elowen pushed herself out of the chair she was in and walked into the foyer, where the adults were still talking. The room when silent upon her arrival---all paused their conversation and looked at her with their entire attention.

“I don’t want another Mama and Papa. They’ll just betray me.” She commented on what they said sharply, her right hand nervously fiddling with the skirt of her lilac nightgown. “I don’t want another Lord Andromedon either.” 

“We don’t have to worry about it until later, okay?” Feyre smiled down at her. Elowen looked into Feyre’s kind blue eyes and felt herself relax. She really did like Feyre...she was trustworthy, gentle. Like Mama used to be. 

“Where am I going to go?” Elowen then asked. “Do I have to go to an orphanage? Because Mama and Papa don’t want me anymore?” 

She heard Mor take in a sharp breath, watching her look over at Rhysand with wide, pleading eyes. 

“No,” Rhys shook his head. “You’re more than welcome to stay with us until we figure out what to do.” He looked over at Feyre, their expressions revealing to Elowen that they were sharing a hidden conversation. She wondered what they were saying to one another. 

Feyre nodded affirmingly once they were done, though was careful to ask, “Would you like to do that?”

Elowen beamed at the offer, putting on a glowing, impish little grin. “This is dream-land. Why would I want to leave? My three princes brought me here!” 

Her reply raised the eyebrows of everyone in the room, all puzzled by the obscure statement. 

“What do you mean?” Mor chuckled, peering at her curiously. 

“My favorite dream is one where a handsome prince takes me to a pretty town with sweets and fluffy pillows. It came true---and I got three princes instead of just one! A  _ total  _ bargain.” Elowen pointed to the three Illyrian males in the room, each one of them having a different reaction to what she was insinuating. 

Rhysand richly laughed and fawned over Elowen. 

Cassian burst out in raucous, boisterous laughter. 

And Azriel...he just remained silent and blushed, but a small, warm smile painted his lips. 

“Thank you, Elowen. I’m flattered.” Rhys put a hand to his heart, another hearty laugh pouring out of him. 

“Oh Mother above---” Mor crouched down and pinched Elowen’s cheeks with an adoring expression, giggling at the face she reacted with. “You are  _ too  _ cute! 

“You’re torturing her.” Cassian snorted, which made Mor let Elowen go, albeit very reluctantly. 

“Before any more  _ harassment  _ can ensue,” Feyre cut in. “We should all get some rest.” 

It was as if everyone’s fatigue had been immediately turned on, scattered yawns coming from the group one after the other. Mor was the first to leave, bidding everyone goodnight and heading upstairs to Feyre’s old bedroom. 

Cassian and Azriel decided to go to the new house---still under construction, but with all facilities working---just to give the others more space in the townhouse with their added guest. 

Rhys looked down at Elowen, gently ruffling her thick, black hair, before ascending up the stairs to go to bed as well. “Sweet dreams, Your Highness.” 

Elowen chirped a small, pleased, “Good night,” before it was just Feyre and her in the foyer, the former tenderly watching over the latter. Rhysand and Feyre exchanged another look before he completely disappeared, one that she had never seen before. It wasn’t something she had even seen any adult look like, not even her parents. 

“Why don’t we grab Nuala and Cerridwen to give you a warm bath before going to bed?” Feyre broke through Elowen’s thoughts, and her suggestion sounded very pleasing. However, for some reason she hesitated---gravitating towards Feyre’s warmth, her lull of calm and ease. 

She didn’t want Nuala and Cerridwen with her just yet...not when she wanted to grab onto Feyre and never let go. It was problematic that Elowen was too shy to ask...too scared that her mother might appear where Feyre stood if she was away for too long. 

Elowen looked up at the much taller Feyre, entreatingly trying to get her message across. 

She seemed to understand, nodding and smiling at Elowen, granting her wish. 

Elowen smiled back, reaching up to take Feyre’s hand in hers. 

 

The bath was so warm that Elowen purred in satisfaction, the lovely smell of lilac and pear filling the room, making her feel even more at ease. 

Despite the memories that wanted to linger at the front of her mind, she could ignore them with Feyre there---gently washing the bruises and smudges of dirt from off of her face. 

“I know you might not want me to ask,” Feyre’s voice was tentative, as calm as a warm summer night. “But, are you alright? What exactly happened with your parents and Lord Andromedon?” 

Elowen frowned, reaching down to play with the bubbles that floated atop the warm water. She looked at Feyre’s pleading expression, leaning into the washcloth that stroked her cold forehead. 

“It was bedtime and Mama didn’t come to see me. I heard angry voices from the kitchen and when I walked out of my room, Mama and Papa said mean things to me...because I had done something really bad.” 

Elowen felt a soft caress to her wings, Feyre beginning to wash them with the sweet-smelling soap. The touch, while greatly invited, reminded her of what her parents said to her---what Lord Andromedon said. 

How she couldn’t have saved herself when mean people tried to take her away. 

“And what did they accuse you of doing?” 

Feyre’s probing questions made Elowen feel claustrophobic, the true despair and resent she had been holding in filling up her lungs and puffing out her chest. 

“I don’t know. They just called me names. A monster…” She paused at the one word that still rang through her ears, wincing as it grew louder and louder in volume. “A  _ defect _ . I don’t know what that means.” 

“ _ Elowen _ \---” 

“Am I a defect? I know I’m different from the others...something’s wrong with me. Is that what it means?” She searched Feyre for the answers to her questions, wanting to know if her parents had been right. 

Did she deserve to be kicked out? 

Elowen hissed when Feyre went over the cuts on her back with the soap, remembering how much it hurt when she received those marks from Lord Andromedon. 

“No, Elowen. You aren’t.” Feyre set down the washcloth and grabbed the cup she was using to wash the shampoo out of Elowen’s hair. She carefully rinsed her off, her soft fingers brushing against Elowen’s forehead to shield her face, making sure not to get any soap in the younger girl’s eyes. “You are not a defect, or a monster, and there is nothing wrong with you. Your parents, Lord Andromedon---they were the wrong ones. They were entirely wrong.” 

Elowen’s brows furrowed, glancing behind her to see a tall mirror set up in the corner of the bathroom. From there, she was able to see why people called her a monster...a  _ defect _ . 

Her right wing was miniscule in comparison to her left. The left looked normal, like a normal Illyrian’s would. But the right…

It was as if it had been crumpled up---almost like a wad of paper, white scarring running down the seams of the wing. She had never noticed it in this much detail before---never noticed how monstrous it really looked. 

“Why would you say that? Can’t you see it?” She interrogated, trying to grasp what Feyre said and why she did. No one had ever treated her wings with this much kindness---only scorn and teasing. “When Mama and Papa pushed me into the snow...when Lord Andromedon hurt me...I didn’t deserve it? Even though they did it to me?” 

“You didn’t deserve it.” Feyre spoke slowly to her, brushing a lock of hair away from Elowen’s face. Feyre was firm---unwavering, but also soothing and caring. “What they did to you is  _ not  _ your fault. And it never will be.”

Elowen kept quiet, trying to mull over everything that was said to herself. In the meantime, Feyre reached down and pulled out the plug on the drain, letting Elowen dry off with a soft, fluffy towel. 

They were in the spare bedroom before Elowen could even process what was happening, Feyre giving her a t-shirt to wear in place of a nightgown. Before she could forget, Feyre placed a large bandage on the scar under the nape of Elowen’s neck, sealing it from sight and any infection. 

Hesitantly, gingerly---Elowen reached up for Feyre’s hand again, tugging her closer and burying her face in Feyre’s stomach. 

Her shoulders began to shake. Hot, burning tears rolled down her cheeks as the pain that she had felt for the first time no more than an hour ago came back to life, scarring her with even more of a vengeance. She wanted her mother...she wanted her father. She missed the warmth of their little home---the flowers on the front porch. The kids from the nearest neighborhood coming to see her every once and awhile. 

She could remember that last spring, when her parents had taken her on a picnic out in a field of lush, green grass. The breeze blew by, ruffling her hair and tickling her skin---before her wings had grown in fully. When her parents still loved her. 

Her memories only made her cry harder. They were once so lovely, but now ripped into shreds...because her parents didn’t like how she was born. Because she was their mess-up. 

“ _ Shhh _ …” Feyre’s fingers wove through her still damp hair, tucking some of the curled strands behind the young girl’s ears. “It’s okay, Elowen. I promise, everything’s going to be okay.” 

Feyre let her stay right there, buried in the older female’s warmth. It took a little while for Elowen to calm down, her right cheek red from where her face was planted. She would have fallen asleep standing up, if it weren’t for Feyre scooping her up and placing her in bed, tucking Elowen under the plush duvet comforter. 

“Hey, what do you say you come help me tomorrow afternoon---after lunch? I run a painting studio, to teach kids how to paint...I’m sure they’d love to see a new face around.” 

Feyre’s suggestion made Elowen smile. She remembered when she used to steal her mother’s rouge and mix it with water in order to paint pictures for herself, although she had only ever used her fingers before. 

“Okay---” Elowen’s statement was cut off with a yawn, as she nestled further under the covers. She decided against saying the rest, too tired to go on. 

“Okay.” Feyre chuckled, walking to the door of the small bedroom, though not before turning off the lamp on Elowen’s bedside table. 

Feyre’s hand rested on the doorknob, turning back to look at the curled up Elowen one last time. She reminded Feyre of a small kitten---though, she was more at ease when she saw that the innocence remained on Elowen’s expression. Eventually, the youthful sparkle would return to her hazel eyes, just as all children had...it was only a matter of time and healing. It was a familiar sense of recovery to Feyre, to all of them. 

“Goodnight, Elowen,” Feyre spoke with a tender cadence. “Sweet dreams.” 

“Goodnight, Feyre.” Elowen much less eloquently muttered---though the sentiment was apparent---before she let out the tiniest huff of a snore, sleep finally taking over. 


End file.
